


Winter

by KingOfRats



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cousin Incest, F/M, i don't know if that needs a tag but its sad :c, i miss my cat, it mentions dead pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 08:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17077133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingOfRats/pseuds/KingOfRats
Summary: Jon gives Sansa a direwolf pup.





	Winter

Jon asks her to visit the kennels, one day. 

Sansa does not know what to expect, cannot, when she has done her very best not to think about Ramsay or his kennels since they had begun rebuilding Winterfell. She comes anyways. What she finds is a shadow of the past in the image of Jon, cradling a gray direwolf pup in his arms, in almost the exact way he had all those years ago, before she'd gone South and seen Father's rotting head, before the Joffrey and Baelish and Ramsay.

But the pup is not Lady, its fur a light gray only a few shades darker than Ghost's and much paler than Lady's had been. She and Jon are not the same, either.

Her innocence has long since been lost, and so has his. The sullen half-brother she had once cruelly ignored is gone, grown up. He's died, and come back. He's become a king and then a cousin and then _hers_ , because for all that they are both scarred, he is still brave and gentle and strong.

"She could never replace Lady," he says, "But..."

She takes the pup from him with shaking hands, and to her touch it is so soft and warm and oh so alive - its tongue is hot where it licks wet stripes on her hand and she cannot stop the tears when she thinks of her sweet and graceful and dead Lady. Jon does not hesitate to scoop her into his arms and press his lips against the crown of her head. Sansa has thought she has known love many times - she'd once dreamt of golden summers and golden flowers and golden-haired princes, and when those dreams had turned sour she had hoped for Willas, for any escape - but none of them could compare to what she felt for Jon.

And so when he pulls away, she pushes forwards and captures his mouth with her own. She has imagined kissing him, in the dead of night while she was locked away in her rooms, the rooms that he had fought and bled to take for her, where she was safe and where no one might judge, but she could not have imagined the way it crackles like lightning across her lips and down her spine, or the way it makes her toes curl.

When they finally separate, Jon groans her name like a prayer. She pulses with a heady arousal, that he might want her so badly. His pupils have been blown wide into deep black seas which have almost swallowed the Stark gray of his eyes, and Sansa wonders for a moment if the Tully blue of her own eyes have been swallowed. She wonders how her hands have ended up fisted in his hair, or when his hand had drifted to the curve of her ass. But not for very long, not while she is dizzy from the pleasure and the lack of breath both. Even with the pup wiggling in her arms, nothing before has ever felt so right.

"Kiss me again, Jon."

**Author's Note:**

> its like 3 am and im sad now because whenever i have to think of lady dying i am actually physically injured  
> at least my finals are over  
> (also, there's absolutely no way to tell, but 'Winter' is the name sansa ends up giving the pup)


End file.
